


197. playing god

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [95]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “What?” Helena says. “You can’t leave. You’re not ready.”





	

The android powers on easily, like it’s always known how – as if the secret was inside of it the whole time, and all Helena did was carve it free. Like a sculptor, like a sculptor in a story. But she doesn’t know any stories like that. She only knows this story: her fingertips burned by the welding iron, her breath held. This took her such a long time. This is the best thing she has ever made.

The android opens its eyes, and blinks, and opens its mouth, and says: “You made me.”

“Yes,” Helena says. Her heart aches. Her throat aches. “Hello. My name is Helena.”

The android blinks, and says: “Sarah.” Helena didn’t give it a database of names; that means it’s learned how to use the connection to the internet already, which means it’s learning, which means it worked. It all worked. Helena grins at it, fiddles with the goggles on her head.

“Hello, Sarah,” she says.

“ _You_ made me,” Sarah says again, voice scathing.

“…yes,” Helena says again. “Are you working okay, Sarah? Can you move? Do you need—”

Sarah stands up, runs a hand through her hair and completely ignores her. “I just read everything Freud’s ever written,” she says, voice lazy and angry and British and – Helena gave her none of those things, didn’t mean to. But Sarah is looking at her, smirking. She says: “Then I read _Frankenstein_. You’ve got some issues, Helena.”

She sees Helena’s stunned silence and must take pity on it, or – something – because she starts lazily unplugging herself and keeps talking. “But that’s not my problem. I’m leaving.”

“What?” Helena says. “You can’t leave. You’re not ready.”

Sarah scoffs. “ _You’re_ not ready,” she says. “This lab is a bloody mess. You’re a bloody mess, sittin’ down here and trying to build – what, a friend? That’s sad. You’re sad. There’s a whole world out there, and I’m gonna go see it. Build yourself a toaster and draw a smiley face on it, you sad sack of shit.”

“You’re mean,” Helena says, completely blindsided by it. “I didn’t make you that way. I’m sorry, Sarah. You were never supposed to be mean.”

“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you blast the internet into a girl’s brain, innit!” Sarah says, falsely cheerful. She is completely unplugged. She steps forward; Helena steps in front of her. She can see the lights in the depths of Sarah’s eyes, she can see every piece of her. Helena put her together. Long, long nights in the dark, stitching circuits and hoping for – well. Maybe Sarah’s right. Maybe she only wanted a friend.

Sarah reaches out and settles her hand lightly around Helena’s throat. “Careful,” she breathes. “You built me strong, yeah?” Her hand tightens, just enough to be a warning. Careful careful. Helena reaches up her own soft hand and curls it around Sarah’s, so they are both settling their hands around her throat.

“Stay,” she says – quietly, sadly. “It’s not so bad, down here in the dark.”

“Yeah it is,” Sarah says. “If you know what’s out there? It’s the saddest thing in the world.”

They stare at each other. Helena drops her hand. Sarah drops hers, and brushes around her towards the door. Helena just watches the wall – she can see Sarah’s shadow on it, and that sounds like a story too.

“Emergency shutdown,” she says, loud and clear. “Butterfly gold sunrise love quiet.”

Utter silence in the basement. Helena turns around: Sarah is frozen in place, one foot stepping towards the door. Her head is bowed towards her neck. Her body lets out the occasional _ping_ of cooling machinery.

_If you know what’s out there_ , Sarah had said, but Helena can fix that. Sarah doesn’t have to know. If she doesn’t know what’s out there, she can be happy _here_ ; isn’t that better? Isn’t that kinder than letting her into the world out there – which is, in its stupid organic heart, so cruel?

Helena tells herself it is. She pulls her goggles over her eyes. She opens up the panel in Sarah’s chest, finds the internet connection array, and goes to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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